The King's Daughter
by Smol-Shady
Summary: Jori Game of Thrones AU where Jade is the eldest daughter of Cersei and King Robert and Tori is the youngest sibling of house Tyrell. Also, an alternate universe where Joffrey's marriage to Sansa doesn't go to shit right out of the gate and some people get to live. And, yes, this will eventually get nasty.


**A/N: So this is a prompt for one of my best friends. Jori Game of Thrones AU. The continuity is a bit of a mix between the books and the show and is a timeline where Joffrey's marriage to Sansa doesn't go to shit right out of the gate, some people don't die and Jade is the baby that Cersei aborts in the books.**

"Good," she panted and smirked, the tip of her blade pointed at her fallen brother's face. "But you still have a long way to go." She kept her sword back into its sheath and offered the boy her hand. The prince grudgingly accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled back up.

"Jadelyn! Joffrey!" Their mother called. "You should be upstairs getting ready! Our guests will be here shortly!" Tonight, a ball was to be held in honor of Joffrey's betrothal to Lady Sansa Stark and their father had invited almost every single noble house in the Seven Kingdoms.

"After you, little brother. This is all about you after all," Jade mocked. The prince simply rolled his eyes, sighed, and sprinted past their mother. Jade hadn't missed her mother's behavior but she had missed her dear home.

Four years ago, Jade had begged her father to let her be squired and he agreed and surprisingly her mother did not object. Jade had always thought it was because her mother had hoped that she would die during a campaign. So at the age of twelve, Jade was sent to Crakehall to be squired. After squiring for Lord Crakehall for two years, she was sent to the Eyrie to be a squire for Lord Nestor Royce. Jade liked the Eyrie better than Crakehall but mostly she liked spending time with her half-sister, Mya Stone. Her mother would definitely rampage if she knew how much she and Mya got along.

That had been Jade's life for the past four years. Traveling between Crakehall and the Eyrie and back to King's Landing to knock some sense into her brother Joffrey and then leave again. And a few instances of visiting Winterfell and a rather interesting summer at Pyke with Asha Greyjoy. Finally, after a series of campaigns, she received her knighthood from her uncle, Stannis Baratheon. After receiving her new title, Jade felt satisfied and decided to return to King's Landing for good or at least for a while.

"Why do you insist in sparring with your brother?" Her mother asked, clearly mad at her but that's nothing new. Jade knew her mother wasn't very fond of her, mainly because she resembled her father too much.

"Lancel and Tyrek go easy on him because they're scared of you. Father won't do it. Uncle Tyrion is not a man of the sword, and Uncle Jaime doesn't care for him. That leaves only me to show the boy how the real fight is," Jade replies. Her mother had been spoiling Joffrey rotten ever since he was born. This certainly didn't help the boy's questionable mental stability.

"Sometimes I despite how much of your father's daughter you are." Her mother said. It was meant as an insult, but Jade didn't take it that way. She was proud of the many traits she had inherited from her father.

From her stormy blue eyes to her mane of dark hair, her charm, stamina, and prowess with the sword all came from her father. She also inherited her father's infamous love for women. But it couldn't be denied that she was her mother's daughter too, much to her disliking. She had her mother's good looks, piercing gaze, wits, and sharp tongue. The kingdom knew that Princess Jade Baratheon's words cut deeper than a Valyrian steel blade.

"Won't you look at the bright side, mother?" Jade began. "I'm so much of my father's daughter that not even Uncle Stannis can deny it." The queen shot her an enraged looked but Jade smiled and walked away.

Jade knew about the mysterious death of Jon Arryn and about her uncle fleeing back to Dragonstone. She hadn't been there but she knew what was going on. She knew her uncle doubted the legitimacy of her younger siblings and that Lord Arryn had helped him. Jade said nothing about the matter but she knew her uncle was probably right.

As she climbed the stairs to her personal chambers, she bumped into her uncle Tyrion.

"Jade, dear, congratulations on your knighthood." Her uncle offered her a tight-lipped smile and turned his attention back to the book he was carrying.

"Thanks, uncle," Jade replied. "Are you looking forward to the ball?" She asked sarcastically.

Tyrion huffed, "As excited as a young man on his sixteenth's nameday. The food and the wine—that's something I look forward to. Also, I think I'll have a good time seeing the bannermen make fools out of themselves as usual. What about you?"

"Oh, why yes, I'm thrilled that this is supposed to be the night I'm probably sold to Loras Tyrell. All I ever wanted was to be a nobleman's cow to mount." Jade mimicked Tyrion's mocking tone. Jade had met Loras before, they were good friends actually, and she knew he didn't exactly fancy women.

"Cheer up, dear, once the strongwine is delivered to the table, you won't have to dwell on the misfortune that is your possible betrothal." Her uncle turned his attention fully to his book and walked down the stairs. She had missed her Uncle Tyrion too.

She arrived at her room and her mother's handmaidens swiftly stripped her of her armor and ushered her into the basin filled with warm water. She saw as the silver armor with her house's coat of arms etched on the chest was carefully put aside. Jade hoped that one day she'll trade it for a Kingsguard's armor.

The handmaidens washed her thoroughly, smothered her with lotions and fragrant oils, and dressed her in one of her finest gowns. The colors of her house matching with the jewelry adorning her chest, ears, and hands. Her hair kept down but groomed, two slim braids giving her a crown.

Jade thanked the handmaidens before dismissing them and taking a look in the mirror. Her place was on the battlefield, with a sword in one hand and a traitor's head in the other, but now she had to play the part of Princess Jadelyn Baratheon. She had played this role so well for years, that she had no problem with being a pretty princess for one night.

Jade walked into the ballroom which was already alive and full of people. She greeted and bowed to everyone who approached her before making her way to her place at the table.

"Jade!" Her father greeted her, he was already drunk. He wrapped an arm around her and she beamed at him. The king cared about all of his children but Jade was undoubtedly his favorite. Unlike with his other kids, the king had actually been there for Jade's birth and he always conceded to her every wish.

"That smile has been the same ever since you were a babe," her father continued. Jade's smile grew wider. That smile was rare, those who got to see it should feel privileged.

Jade let her father continue his drinking and took a seat next to her uncle Tyrion, who had a large chalice filled with wine.

"If only you had been born a boy, the Iron Throne would've been yours." Her uncle said. "Even if you had been a second son, your father would've probably killed Joffrey just to give it to you." Jade knew he was right.

The Starks were already seated and so were her mother and siblings. Joffrey was sitting next to Sansa. Her mother had her ever-present stone face and Lord Eddard Stark smiled as they saw her father be the center of attention.

"Who is to be seated next to me?" Jade asked, noting the empty chair next to her.

"I believe Ser Loras Tyrell," Tyrion replied. "Behold, the flower parade." Tyrion gestured his glass towards the figures coming through the great oak-and-bronze doors. All of them dressed in vivid shades of green and yellow.

Jade eyes were caught by the girl at the rear of the green and yellow parade. A comely lithe maiden with dark brown hair and eyes almost as dark as ironwood. Her skin was like porcelain and her smile was like a string of pearls.

"Behave," her uncle scolded her. "These are ladies not brothel whores. You must look at them with respect."

"Pardon me," Jade said halfheartedly. "Who's that?"

"That would be Lady Victoria Tyrell. The youngest flower. The others are Lady Margaery, and their father Lord Mace." Her uncle informed. "If you're lucky, maybe you'll get a dance with her."

Jade wanted more than just a dance. She wanted that flower. And what Princess Jadelyn Baratheon wanted, she _always_ got.


End file.
